


We Find Our Worth

by somethingnerdythiswaycomes



Series: Isle of Flightless Birds [2]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: 2016 Stanley Cup Playoffs, Alternate Universe - BDSM, D/s AU, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Platonic Cuddling, Polyamory, Queerplatonic Relationships, cuddle puddle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-12
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-06-07 22:45:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6828214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somethingnerdythiswaycomes/pseuds/somethingnerdythiswaycomes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe Nicky's a little bit used to losing.  They’d been good this year, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Find Our Worth

**Author's Note:**

> This is me dealing with the caps getting eliminated because i still cry when i think about it.
> 
> (this is also setting up a lot of end-game things that I'll probably be exploring in separate fics later, but p much all of it is self-explanatory. basically all the caps are in a platonic/queerplatonic relationship with other romantic/queerplatonic/platonic relationships in there)

They fly back to Washington that night.

The plane’s mostly silent; Nicky doesn’t really expect anything different from his team.  They’re all disappointed.  And yes, they played hard – he doesn’t know how they could’ve played harder, though he supposes there must’ve been a way, because they lost.

Maybe he’s a little bit used to losing.  They’d been good this year, though.

Alex’s still completely silent, squeezed into the space between the seats just for the short amount of time the fasten seatbelt sign is off.  He had a death grip on Nicky’s hand all during the bus ride to the airport, and while their plane ascended, and he hasn’t said a word since the game ended.

He does a quick survey of the rest of the team – it’s his responsibility, especially when Alex’s got his eyes closed and his head in Nicky’s lap.  Latts and Willy are pressed close together towards the front of the plane, sharing a blanket.  Holtby has Andre in his lap again.  Richie and Williams are sitting together, Willams's fingers rubbing over the chain around Richie's neck – it's good to know Richie's all right, with an unexpected playoffs exit and uncertainty looming.  Oshie’s in the back, he knows, where the seating’s more like couches, and he can lie down on his side after the spanking Carly gave him in the locker room.  He’s got Orpy back there, too, and Nisky and Alzy; few things amuse Nicky as much as the D corps’s dedication to Oshie.

Kuzy’s sitting by himself.  Nicky’s not worried.

Alex makes a soft noise; Nicky pets his hair gently, the graying strands as soft as feathers under his fingers.

“Shh,” he whispers.  “We’re almost home.”

He thinks it might be the first words he’s said to Alex since the game ended.  The two of them have never needed words.

 

.oOo.

 

It doesn’t take long to drive to home from DCA in the middle of the night.  Nicky loads Alex into the passenger seat of the car and hops into the driver’s seat himself.  He leaves the radio off.

Of course, as he drives, he notices that the cars behind him don’t peel off 50 W like they normally do.  His lips twitch in a smile.  He was half-expecting it, really.

He exits the highway, the road quieting under the car’s tires as they move onto city streets, and then residential streets.  Alex still hasn’t said a word.

Nicky pulls into their driveway and puts the car into park.

“They want me to go play at Worlds,” Alex says, his voice rough, but quiet.

Nicky nods.  “If you want to go, you go.”

“They need me here.”

“Alex,” Nicky says, turning in his seat to look at him.  “They think they need you, and they will want you, but they don’t need you.  If _you_ want to play at Worlds, do it.”

Alex stares at him for a moment, his face so serious, so _sad_.  “I want to keep playing.”

“Then keep playing.”

Alex nods, but he still looks unsure.

“I’m here for them.”

Alex nods again, and this time he looks like he believes Nicky.  Good.

“We should go inside.  They’re waiting.”

It’s true.  Everyone else has pulled up on the side of the street and parked, but stayed in their cars until Nicky and Alex have gotten out.  They seem to fall into more traditional habits when they’re upset.  Nicky doesn’t mind being a bit more traditional, when they need that from him.

Nicky gets out of the car, and Alex does too, and it’s only a couple seconds before he sees Latts, and Willy, and Burky and Holtby and Orpy, Alzy, Nisky, Carly, Oshie, Chimmer, Orly, Kuzy, Jojo, Grubi, Williams, Richie, everyone..

He doesn’t know if they’ve got enough food for everyone, and the only thing open’ll be the 24 hour pizza place.  Needs must.

“Living room,” Nicky says, when he unlocks the door.  As the team troops past him, he picks out the Doms that don’t have a sub, or subbing switch, latched onto them, and assigns them tasks.  Chimmer’s sent to collect blankets and quilts.  Orpy follows behind him for pillows.  Kuzy, Alzy, and Nisky work together to gather as much food and Gatorade and water as they can and pile it up in the corner of the living room.

The team’s used to the procedure by now – or at least the guys that were here last year are.  They push the coffee table out of the way, and spread the blankets and comforters and pillows out around the couch.  As much as Nicky wishes he had a bed with enough space for the team, he doesn’t, but they make do.  They always do.

Alex is back to silence, standing with his back to the wall and his fingers hooked in his collar.  Every time Nicky passes him – on his way to pull a blanket straight, rearrange pillows, check they have enough water for everyone – he brushes his fingers over Alex’s chest, just to the side of his tie.

Finally, when everything’s set, Nicky stops in front of him and gently pulls Alex’s hand from his collar.

“Go change,” Nicky tells him.  “You need your rest.  You should be comfortable.”

Alex nods, a bit of a glimmer back in his eye.  “You want me to wear something special?”

Nicky huffs. “Something comfortable, Alex.”

Alex grin lights up his face for a moment – before it drops off again.  Nicky wishes it would come back, but there’ll be time for that.  Hopefully, he’ll see it again before Alex leaves for Worlds.  If not, there’s the entire offseason.  There’s next season.  There’s _time_.

Nicky puts on sweatpants and a t-shirt of his own – and everyone else starts trickling back in, from wherever they went to change.  Holtby and Andre settle down in the corner of the sectional, Holtby holding a length of rope Nicky knows wasn’t pillaged from his own playroom.  He shouldn’t be surprised that Holtby came prepared, especially when Nicky knows how Andre needs rope, sometimes.

Carly comes back in with Oshie, and spreads Oshie out on his stomach on one of the guest room quilts, his head carefully laid in Carly’s lap.  The same group from the plane settles around him, careful not to lean on him, just pressing against his side, with a hand on the back of his knee or high up on his shoulder.  Nicky passes a tube of cream to Alzy, the one that settled closest to Oshie’s hip, in case they weren’t able to get enough on him earlier.  Sure enough, when Alzy and Nisky get Oshie’s underwear down, his ass and the tops of his thighs are bright red, with handprints standing out, and some darker spots that are already starting to bruise.

“I’m good,” Oshie says quietly, twisting his head to look up at Nicky.  “It helps.”

“I know,” Nicky replies, and moves on.

He doesn’t think Willy and Latts have let go of each other since they met up in the dressing room.  They’re even more intertwined now, on one side of the couch, twisted around each other like spaghetti noodles.  Nicky can see where Willy’s hands are up under the back of Latts’s shirt, and Latts has one in Willy’s hair and the other down the back of Willy’s pants.  Nicky knows they’re respecting the rules; he’ll leave them alone for now.

Sometimes Kuzy doesn’t like being touched.  Nicky doesn’t push him.  But right now, Kuzy’s sitting by himself on the arm chair, his knees tucked under his chin, and it sets off warning bells in his mind.

“Are you all right?” Nicky asks, keeping a respectful distance away from the chair.  Kuzy’s sensitive about his space.  He’s one of the most territorial Doms on the team, and it’s been an adjustment for Nicky, when he’s used to the team being his territory, and Kettler and the Verizon Center, too.

“Fine,” Kuzy answers shortly.

Nicky narrows his eyes.  Another Dom speaking to him like that, as a challenge, rankles something in him, and to do it in his own home, with _his team_ around him –

Orly slides closer to the chair, until his back is pressed to it.  Nicky glances down at him.  Orly looks blandly up at him, then tilts his head back just enough that it rests against Kuzy’s leg.

“Stop,” Kuzy growls.

Before Nicky can snap anything, Orly says something in Russian, something Nicky is too exhausted to translate, and Kuzy heaves a sigh and lets Orly leave his head on him.  All Nicky knows is that Orly is a switch; the rest has a habit of figuring itself out.

Richie’s the real wildcard for him.  Nicky was worried, when the game ended, what would happen to him.  But Williams had spirited him away while Nicky was taking care of Alex, and by the time they were on the plane, everything seemed fine.  Nicky can tell when a sub’s only trying to seem fine, and when they actually are; Alex has given him plenty of practice.

And everyone knows the basics of what happened when the Kings’ season ended last year.

But Richie and Williams are lying down on a pile of blanket right next to the wall, Richie pressed between Williams and the wall, with Williams more than half on top of him.

Nicky considers letting them be, but…

“Not too sore for this?” he asks quietly, crouching down next to them.

Richie doesn’t move, except for his fingers twitching, but Williams glances over at him.  “No.  The weight helps him.”

Nicky nods.  “I have a weighted blanket, if you’d like it.  Top shelf of the linen closet.”

Williams nods but makes no move to get up.  “Thanks, Backy.”

“Of course,” Nicky murmurs, and stands.

He can give his attention to his own sub, now, and that’s a relief in its own way.  As much as Alex is his, the whole team is his, too – the Doms, the subs, the switches.  He’s responsible for all of them.  He has to check on all of them, look out for them, and Alex understands – Alex feels the same, does the same, when he’s not feeling this bad himself.

Alex saved them a space right in the middle of the team, with their backs to the couch, the blanket off their bed underneath them.  When Nicky sits, Alex curls around him, pushing his head into the bend of Nicky’s neck.  Nicky wraps his arms around Alex’s waist, lets Alex sprawl half-on his lap.  There are times for kneeling; this isn’t one of them.  This is a time for cuddling, pressing together and feeling Alex sigh against his neck and he relaxes against him.

“Can I have a Gatorade?” Willy asks, barely above a whisper.  Everyone’s so quiet that the rest of the team can hear him.  Grubi, pressed tight to Chimmer, is closest to the snack pile.  He reaches out and snags a red one and passes it along – to Chimmer, who gives it to Carly, to Nisky, to Nicky, to Latts, to Willy.  “Thanks.”

They’ll stay here for a while – longer than they did at the end of last season, probably.  They’ll finish the pile of snacks and drinks.  There’ll be tears, around 6.  Someone, probably Nicky, will order food around 8.  They’ll start rotating through the showers starting at 10.

Pretty soon, Alex is going to get an email with flight information, so he can keep playing hockey for his country.  Nicky’ll keep the blankets and pillows out for a couple days, while the team keeps coming by, until the numbers dwindle enough that they could fit on the couch or the bed.

Nicky closes his eyes and sinks his fingers into Alex’s hair.  There's time for all that.  There's time.

**Author's Note:**

> join me in sin on tumblr @ somethingnerdythiswaycomes


End file.
